Запретный лес
XVIII. The Plague
Davidsawmanyadroveasheopenedhiswindowinthemorning.Eventhefieldfares,whichAmosRitchieusedtosnareintheMirehopefields,didnotcomewithinsightofhisbird-lime....Abroodingstrangenesshadcomeintotheair,andapathysilencedtheverytykesinthevillagestreet.NeighboursrarelygatheredatLuckyWeir’sforamutchkin,thoughitwasthirstyweather;menseemedtobeafraidlestwhattheysawinanother’seyemightgivesubstancetotheirownfears.
PeterPennecuik,sittingonthestonebythesmithydoorandmoppingawetforehead,watchedAmosdrophistoolsheavilyashereturnedfromajobatReiverslaw.
"Whatmak’yeo’theweather?"heasked.
Amosstraightenedhisback.
"Idinnalikeit.Thegillyflowersinmyyairdareettlin’tobloom.Mygranniehadaverseo’auldThomastheRhymer--whatwasit?--
"AYulewi’outsnaws,
AJanuar’wi’haws,
Bringthedeidthraws."
"There’sajudgmentpreparin’,"saidPeter,"butwhatnakindo’judgmentIdaurnaguess.Certes,it’snocanny."
"I’veheardo’naneailin’,butthere’sseecknesscomin’.Icansmellitintheair,andthebrutebeastscansmellit,forthey’resweirtocomenearWoodilee.There’snoatodoramaukinona’theHillo’Deer.D’yenofindaqueersavourinthecountryside,Peter?There’swindenoughtoshakethesaughs,butthewarldsmellsliketheinsideo’apress-bedwhenthedoor’ssteekit.Ohforasnell,dirlin’blast!There’ssomethingrottenandstawsomeandunearthlyabouttheblueliftandthesaftair.It’slikewitheredfloo’ersonamidden....
